


51. Sightseeing in Rome

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [51]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:30:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: none</p>
    </blockquote>





	51. Sightseeing in Rome

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: none

"Stand right there," Antony says, gesturing Stephen towards an empty spot amidst the throng of tourists on the Spanish Steps. Another day they'll just wander and check out all the neighbourhoods, bum around, but today they're doing some major sightseeing. He takes a couple of pictures, then lets an American woman take a picture of them, their arms looped casually around each other's shoulders. "Thanks." He smiles at her, taking his phone back. "You okay with that?" he asks Stephen. So far they've had a double-take or two but no one's actually approached his lover.

"Yeah of course." Stephen grins, he's feeling pretty fucking good right now, a decent night sleep, some awesome food, his lover and Sir's undivided attention? Stephen's about as happy as he can get. "I like we have photos together," he peers over Antony's shoulder to check the picture. "Anyway, I'm not real famous, not here," he shrugs, bumping shoulders with his lover.

"Not with the Italians maybe, but some of the tourists obviously recognize you," Antony says, happy Stephen doesn't mind the pictures, that they don't have to hide every aspect of their relationship. He grins at his boy. "Where next? Trevi Fountain then the Pantheon?"

"Maybe I need your baseball cap then huh?" Stephen teases, before pulling back and hiking the back pack up on his shoulder. "Yep, let's do it, and if we find more sugar-based goodness on the way that's a bonus," he grins. Stephen's working on the principle he's on holiday - so he can eat what the fuck he wants - he's also with his Sir, who uses him frequently, thus burning up all those excess calories. Win, win.

"You realize there's a gelato place on every corner and a bakery right beside it," Antony teases back.

Stephen's only reply is to widen his grin and wink. He falls in beside his Sir, eyes scanning the crowds, taking in the sights and smells of their surroundings.

"So what are you going to wish for?" Antony asks, taking advantage of the crowds around them to keep their shoulders nudged together.

Thinking about that for a moment Stephen gives a light shrug. "I don't know, I have everything I want." He casts Antony a quick look from the corner of his eye. "For you to stay safe when you're working, for us to keep being this happy. What about you?"

"The same, other than hoping the world smartens the fuck up at some point and it stops mattering who you're sleeping with," Antony says, stopping to take a picture of a smaller fountain.

Stephen watches his lover as he takes a few pictures, his forehead wrinkled a little in thought. When Antony's done and he's back at his side he nudges him with his shoulder. "S'it bothering you more? Than you thought?" he asks softly.

"A bit," Antony admits. "But it's okay, I get it. I'd just like to be able to hold your hand or you know, touch you without worrying I'm giving something away that needs to stay hidden."

"This from the guy that wasn't sure he did hand holding huh?" Stephen teases gently, though it's clear from his tone it's something he wants too. He loves Antony, more than anyone else he's ever been with - and he's so proud to belong to him - so he feels it keenly that he can't be honest about that. "I'm sure it's a matter of time Tony, not a 'never'."

Antony nods. "I hope so, but your career's what's important, so if it's never, I'll deal with it," he says, needing Stephen to know that.

Stephen stops and reaches out to make Antony halt too, he turns his lover to face him. "You're important, _we're_ important. You told me this is a forever thing - if you really believe that, like I do? Then it's a when, not an if," Stephen's voice is low but vehement.

"Okay." Antony nods again, impressed by his lover's seriousness. "When," he agrees. "But I just want you to know there's no timeline on that, not on my end."

"Yeah, I know that," Stephen nods and risks reaching out to give his lover's shoulder a quick squeeze. "You have never made me feel pressured about that."

"Good, because I wouldn't want it to happen and you end up resenting me or anything," Antony says, smiling at the touch.

Nudging Antony forward they start walking again, still close enough that their words are really only for each other. "It's something I've been thinking about," he admits after a moment. "People will talk anyway if I'm never seen with a woman, it won't take long."

"You could always get a beard," Antony points out, although he's mostly teasing. "Or you can just let them gossip anyway. Lots of actors do."

"What just get on with it? Just never confirming or denying anything?" It's an interesting idea, but Stephen's not sure how long that would work.

"You could," Antony says, glancing over at Stephen. "But that's not what you want, is it?"

The frowns back again. "What is it you think I want?" he asks, brushing his arm against his lover's.

"What we said. To be able to acknowledge we're together. I don't mean go shouting it from rooftops, but not have to hide it," Antony says, suddenly wondering if he's wrong, what he said that put that frown on Stephen's face.

"Yeah, yeah that's what I want... I just can't see a way of having that without all the crap," Stephen's beginning to wonder if he should talk to his director, to his agent...test the waters. Just in case.

"I know," Antony says quietly. "Hey, there it is," he nods towards the fountain which is coming into view. "You got a coin or do you need one?" he asks, already pulling out his wallet.

"I have one." Stephen's left feeling a little flat after their conversation, like some of the joy has gone out of his day - and he curses himself for even bringing the subject up.

"Remember, right hand over left shoulder," Antony says with a smile, ready to take a picture as Stephen squeezes between some other folks making their wishes.

"Yeah sure." He nods and smiles, making ready and then throwing the coin his eyes closed as he wishes hard, wishes for Antony's safety and their own happiness, there's an under current though, like he's just cursed them rather than blessed them with his wish.

"My turn," Antony says, taking his place in the spot Stephen's vacated, his coin tossed in the waters with all the others. "I love you," he whispers in Stephen's ear as he presses close, the throngs around them too tight and too loud for anyone else to hear.

And right there, Stephen risks it all. He turns his head and presses his lips against Antony's, eyes open, heart hammering.

Shocked, Antony starts to pull away and then presses back in, kissing Stephen for all he's worth. To hell with anyone watching them.

Moments later, when his body starts to respond to the passion and want in Antony's kissing Stephen suddenly jerks back, his arousal instantly replaced by a sweaty cold chill, his stomach twists tight and he backs up, head down - mind racing. He brings a hand up to cover his mouth and takes another step, then he's spinning on the balls of his feet and he's off...he can't run, it's too busy, but he needs to get away - from anyone that just saw that - from temptation. _What did you do? What the fuck did you do?_

 _Fuck._ Antony follows, grabbing Stephen's arm and steering him towards a quieter side street. "It's okay. No one's watching," he tells him. "No one cares. They're all too busy with their own shit." Although he can't be sure of that. The likelihood is that someone caught them in a picture or video, but hopefully, they might not know what they have.

"You know that? You're 100% sure of that?" Stephen hisses in his lovers face. "How?" He feels sick - but there's more than that and that's what's making him feel so deeply uncomfortable.

"No, I don't," Antony admits, pushing Stephen back against a wall and trying to get his lover to calm down. "But what's done is done."

"I'm so fucked," Stephen's chin drops down and he takes a deep inhale through his nose, irrationally he wants to take this out on Antony, there's anger right there and he's fighting to not lash out. "Jesus fucking christ..."

"You're not fucked yet," Antony says, feeling like complete shit. If only he hadn't kissed Stephen back... but what kind of thought is that? Christ. "I can make some calls, pull in some favours, try and stop anything that comes in from being published." Especially when he can offer way more money than any fucking magazine or tabloid.

"You don't get it," Stephen blows out a breath, he glances up and down the quiet street and then grabs Antony's hand, pulling it on against his own crotch, to the rock hard erection he has. "I want to throw up - and my cock is like _that_?" _What are you doing to me?_

His own cock throbbing in response, Antony resists the urge to grope further. "They're two separate things," he says, struggling for the words, the way to put this right. "I've had fucking erections in the middle of being scared shitless."

"I don't why I did that, right after we talked about it, I don't know why I just risked everything I've worked for. All I know is there is you...and I can't seem to get my head on straight when we're out like this - and I hate it, I hate that I can't just be fucking normal, a normal guy having a normal day without this being a fucking issue." He's rambling he knows, he's also aware he's pushing down a whole lot more resentment.

Antony stands there, hands at his side, listening to Stephen, his heart aching for his lover, his boy. "What do you want to do?" he asks. "What can _I_ do? Anything?"

"Don't let me throw it away, please," Stephen's hands ball into fists. "Don't allow me to be that stupid, fucking punish me if I try anything..." He takes a deep shuddery breath and closes his eyes for a moment. "Maybe we should have an early lunch, find somewhere quiet where I can calm the fuck down." He's reluctant to ask to return to their hotel - because he knows it would be too easy - and Antony had been so fucking excited about today about the exploring.

"There's a place I know, around the corner and up a block or so, off the tourist trail," Antony says with a nod. "Real home-cooking. You okay to walk that far?" There's other places, back on the square, but they're all going to filled with prying eyes, which is the last thing they need right now.

Lips pressed together in a thin line Stephen nods and pushes away from the wall. His nausea has eased, as has his hard on, that along with the huge adrenaline dump have left him feeling disconnected and disorientated.

Antony leads the way to the small family-run trattoria, opening the door for Stephen and smiling at the lowly lit interior with its few tables of locals. He greets the owner in Italian and asks for a table away from the others, his desire to be away from their smoking given as an excuse. Plus it'll keep the area around them clear. When they're seated, he asks for two glasses of the house red and a carafe of water. A basket of bread comes almost immediately. "How're you doing?" he asks Stephen when they're left to look over their menus.

"I'm rattled," Stephen admits, he folds the menu and places it back on the table, but he doesn't let it go, instead he fidgets with it, lining it up one way, then the other, the tips of his fingers tracing the edge of it. "Pissed off, angry, resentful," he shrugs and risks glancing up at his lover.

Antony nods. "I'm not sorry I kissed you back," he says, "but I won't let it happen again, in public, unless we've talked about it and you're sure it's what you want."

"I meant what I said back there, don't let me do it. I know that's a cop out - asking you to police my behaviour like that - but until I figure out what the fuck it is that's making me get so twisted up...yeah, make it a no no, a punishable no no," Stephen leans forward. "Please?"

"Yeah, of course, if you think that'll help." It doesn't sit quite right with Antony but he knows why Stephen's asking and he'll do whatever it takes to make him feel better. "I thought you'd just decided to hell with it, that's why I kissed you back the way I did."

"I don't know what I was thinking," Stephen picks up some bread and turns it over in his fingers. "When you're close to me, when I can smell you..." he trails off and shrugs. "I need to fucking grow a pair and man up," he slumps back in his seat.

"Meaning?" Antony asks, taking a drink of his wine.

Eyes flicking up Stephen tries to gauge his lover's mood. "Meaning I need to stop behaving like a three year old who can't have what he wants every time we're out in public." His tone is a little tarter than he intended, but the anger is mostly aimed at himself now. This was never an issue before - but then he's never loved anyone like this, or been owned like this, or lived with someone like this. The intensity of his reactions to Antony and his almost suicidal urge to fuck up his career are bewildering as they are unwelcome.

"I don't think you're behaving like a three year old," Antony says. "I think it's natural to feel resentful and to chafe at stupid restrictions. But I guess when we're out, we both need to not talk about what we wish was the case and not touch each other at all, and when it gets to be too fucking much, we need to go the hell home or back to the hotel." He smiles at Stephen. "We can always break for a siesta."

Stephen doesn't return the smile. His gaze drops to the bread in his hands and he gives Antony a half hearted shrug. Now he's calmed down he's pissed at himself for risking so much, for being so reckless, and he can't just shrug it off.

Antony blows out a breath, shaking his head at the waitress as she starts over. _Not yet._ "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make light of things. I just don't want this to have ruined our whole day or even the trip," he says. "I already told you, I can make some calls, make sure nothing gets published if anyone even caught anything, and what's done is done. We'll just have to deal with any fallout and smarten the fuck up if we got lucky."

"I know," Stephen leans forward and tosses the uneaten bread on his side plate. "I just...I'm struggling to understand why I did it, and I'm left feeling like I should be punished, which is fucked up, I just..." Bringing one hand up Stephen rubs at his face. "Tony I'm sorry, I'm sorry for this, for acting like an ass and spoiling our plans."

"You're not spoiling them," Antony says, leaning forward too. "I just don't know how to fix this for you, other than making those calls. The personal stuff, the dealing with the crap in your head stuff, that's not something I can do for you, unless you really do want me to punish you?"

Slowly Stephen shakes his head, "No, not really." Because if he did push Antony to punish him, it would be for what? Kissing his own lover, his Sir...okay the punishment _should_ be about the when and where - but that's what it would boil down to - it would feel like punishment for kissing someone he loves. "Make the calls, and let me sort the rest out."

"Okay. I'll make them now. Order me the pasta with a green salad," Antony says, pulling his phone from his pocket. "This won't take long." He heads for the front door, back out onto the quiet side street where he doesn't have to worry about anyone listening in.

Stephen watches his lover leave, all the joy of the day replaced instead with a sense of anger and low mood. Waving over the server Stephen orders Antony's food and requests similar for himself, that done he picks up his glass of wine and slumps back in his seat once more - his whole body language giving away how he's feeling.

"Hey, it's me," Antony says when Marcus answers. "I need you to do something for me and I need you to not be an ass about it," he adds after they exchange a few quick pleasantries. "I need you to do a scour for anything having to do with Stephen - there might be footage of us together, _kissing_ ," he clarifies. "It could be people's personal shit, it could be going to the tabs, whatever. I want anything that shows up gone. I don't care what it takes." The second call goes to Louis, asking him to pull whatever strings he can from his end, Citadel's abilities to hide shit for their members rivalling his own. "I'll owe you," he tells him, laughing when Louis answers with a smooth 'damn right, you will'.

It's still not a guarantee nothing will show up, but it's as close as they're going to get. These days, with everyone outfitted with cameras and cellphones and their own fucking websites and social media, doing a full clean-up job is a real challenge.

Back inside, he takes one look at Stephen and his heart sinks again. Fuck. But he takes a deep breath, determined to salvage what remains of the day and plunks himself back down at the table. "Done. Did you order?"

"Yes, of course," Stephen nods, he straightens up in his seat - out of respect - and sets his glass back down. "Thank you," he starts, "For being so understanding, and patient."

Antony shrugs lightly. "It's not hard. I get it. I just wish I could make it better," he says softly, taking a drink.

"I have to make peace with it, I can't keep railing against something I can't change. At the end of the day, a year ago I would have done anything for this to be a problem," Stephen's words are low, for his lover alone, and he leans in, eyes on Antony. "Everything you've given me...it was more than I ever dared hope for, your love, your dominance...I need perspective that's all."

Antony nods. "I guess we need to realize that there are two kinds of places and _only_ two kinds of places for us. Places we can touch and places we can't and when we're in the latter, we need to keep our hands off each other and I need to not tease you. At all," he says. "Because I think that just blurs the lines and makes it harder on you."

Picking up his glass again, Stephen takes a drink and thinks on that, he eventually nods as he swallows. "Yeah, that's probably true, but what about you?" Now he's calmer, now things are back under control he's not being quite so self absorbed.

"What about me?" Antony asks, reaching for a piece of bread and tearing it in two.

"You've talked about making this easier for me," Stephen starts and then trails off. Part of him had assumed this was _their_ issue - not just his, but as he speaks he realises this whole afternoon shit storm has been on him. _Fuck._. "It's not just me struggling here is it?"

"No, but it's not the same risk for me," Antony says, popping a bite of bread into his mouth. "And yes, I want to touch you. I _always_ want to touch you, but I don't think it's as hard for me to hold off. Maybe because I like the idea of tormenting us both until we get home or wherever we /can/ touch each other."

"Ever the sadist," Stephen's comforted by Antony's answer, and it allows him to relax some more. He watches his lover eat for a moment. "Thank you," he offers softly.

"For what? I'm the one who started everything with my wish," Antony says, now wishing he'd just stayed with Stephen's. "If I hadn't said what I said, maybe this wouldn't have happened."

Stephen's shaking his head before Antony's finished speaking. "No, this isn't the first time I've struggled with it is it? And...I don't know, I let my guard down because we're on vacation, but the thank you is for being reasonable, and for doing what you always do, you step up, you deal with the shit and you do it with no drama," he reaches out to press his fingers to Antony's wrist. "Never apologise for saying you love me, Tony."

Antony nods. "Okay." Smiling at the fingers on his skin. "Is this where I rap your knuckles for touching me?" he teases, unable to resist trying to lighten the mood.

"Fuck you," Stephen feels that last tension ease away and he laughs, shaking his head as he drops back in his chair. He rubs his fingers over his mouth and lets out a deep sigh, "I know you are so good for me, but fuck you mess with my head," he smiles as he raises his glass to his mouth.

Antony grins. He starts to tease again but then thinks better of it, taking a drink of his wine instead. "You still up for the Pantheon after lunch?"

"Hell yeah," Stephen nods, "Let's get our day back on track huh?" he quirks a brow. Now he's calmed down it's easier for him to pack away that resentment and anger, and push it down, ignore it once more.


End file.
